


Staring at the Prince

by liuwu



Category: no :) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Other, its nothing really, something v small, v random
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liuwu/pseuds/liuwu
Summary: A sigh of woe. “Won't he sweep me off my feet as princes do?”“Just kiss him, make a move—just get off your lazy ass and do the sweeping yourself.” Another sigh, of mild annoyance.“Excuse me?” A sharp sigh of surprise. “TokissHis Royal Highness? Are you mad?”
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	1. prince prince ur a dream

The Prince had not yet returned from his father’s summons. An urgent meeting, the messenger said.

He went at once.

The time was of no importance. Early morning, late nights—His Highness was no stranger to them. One could not refuse a King’s orders. No matter the time.

A lone servant, carrying dirty bedlinen, exited his private quarters. Two guards stood at attention. The servant turned the corner, out of sight. The guards stared. Rain beat against glass. They stared. Wind howled. A lord passed by. Thunder boomed. They stared. At attention.

One sighed. “Won’t His Royal Highness return before dawn?”

“Just don’t miss His Royal Highness too much.”

“Won’t he miss me?” Another sigh. “Won’t he come back and sweep me off my feet as princes do?”

“Stop waiting for a fairytale,” the other said. “Just kiss him, make a move—just get off your lazy ass and do the sweeping yourself.”

“Excuse me? To _kiss_ His Royal Highness? Are you mad?”

A derisive scoff echoed through the empty corridor. “Not half as mad as you, as obsessed as you are. Just blabbering on and on about him,” the other said, “as you do. Seriously, Arde, there has not been one watch where you didn’t mention the one time your eyes met his during the banquet or how—if you just kissed him—His Royal Highness would look most—”

“Enough,” Arde conceded, “I see your point.” His ears flushed, his voice cracked. “But you know as well as I a mere knight would never dare make any move on the Prince, lest I be hanged.” He slumped, leaning against the stone wall for support.

“Better to have loved than to have never known it. Just live a little, will you?”

Arde slid down the cool, smooth rock, a hand pressed to his forehead in dramatic fashion. Were he a lady, someone would’ve fetched smelling salts. “I so dearly apologize for valuing my life over any personal feelings I might have.”

Turning to him, the other said, “I, Sir Veridon, more than gladly accept your most just apology. Lady Arde, do not despair so.” Veridon offered Arde his hand with a brilliant smile. He took it.

And so, they returned to their positions. The same Lord neared once more. At attention. He was none the wiser; he passed them by, failing to notice the pair of red ears and twinkling teeth staring at him, too enthralled by the parchment in his hands. He turned the corner. A shared look, a muffled laugh.

They stared.


	2. in the afterglow of day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi flow, hi alch. :)
> 
> ily both. <3

The walk from the stables to the Duchess’ residence was the closest thing to rest they would tonight. It offered a brief respite from discovering they had to leave now, not next week, stowing all they could into saddlebags, escorting the Prince’s carriage, taking the back roads, and fending off all sorts of threats.

Arde’s joints crunched, much like his feet as they sunk into the gravelly lane with each step. Hurry, the captain of the knights had said, we cannot deprive Her Grace of her nephew’s face. 

On Arde’s right, Veridon trekked along with him. He grumbled, “Why not celebrate back in Pammes. Don’t make us come all the way out here and pester us about how we should hurry, hurry. Just you try and stave off those damned abominations, whatever those things are. Yes, captain, don’t think you could. No, sir, I don’t want to know what madman made them, just hurry, hurry along now, we don’t mind if you keep us up for days, just hurry...” 

Arde listened contently to Veridon’s woes, his head empty—save for giving in to his legs’ protests and crumbling to the ground in a pretty little pile of aching bones. To rest, to close his weary eyes. But no matter—duty first. Having the Prince thank him with that sweet, sweet relief in his voice would be reward enough. For that, Arde would run to his horse, ignore the throbbing in his feet, and ride to the ends of the earth.

They marched on. It smelled of freshly cut grass—from the ducal palace, a plain field extended, the setting sun staining it a warm green. Along both sides of the lane, ancient oaks rose in a steady line every ten steps or so. Their wood dark as coal, as though charred by flames of brilliant yellow and orange leaves licking the almost bare arms of trees. Though it was Arde’s fourth year coming here, they never ceased to impress him.

The upcoming celebrations of the Duchess’ birthday would have no mercy. He would need to remain awake, alert, keep up a jubilous facade until tomorrow. Tomorrow morning, that is. Then, he could jump into one of the luxurious beds on the other side of any of those big, big windows taking up more space on the walls than any of the slabs of glimmering grey, and let much-welcomed sleep come to him at last. Surely, his eyes would droop throughout the evening and slump shut in defeat before tonight’s end. 

This afternoon walk was the closest to rest they would get.


End file.
